HISTORIAN
by Arianna Malone
Summary: Ask yourself, how would the very first meeting between Bones and Booth have gone? This is how I answer. Rated 'T' for language. Read the AN first! Complete as is.


Disclaimer: I am not the legal owner of the premise, the characters, or any of the trademark lines from the show "Bones". Please do not sue. I'm just having some fun.

A/N: The first rule of OCC-ness is that no one talks about OCC-ness.

Seriously.

You also may never speak the name of the OCC queen (that would be me…in case you weren't sure).

Second, this story is non-canon. I have been thinking about how Bones and Booth may have met for the first time…if it has ever been mentioned in the eps, I didn't catch it. Because I've pulled the characters into my realm of reality, I get to make up some of the facts. I firmly believe that Bones and Booth didn't meet all that long before the pilot takes place – perhaps there was a year or so of very few meetings. I also believe that Brennan had already undergone her nightmarish experience in El Salvador, and that she had at least a year, probably more like two, to begin to work through it in her own way (martial arts, becoming even less of a people person, etc). For Booth, obviously, Parker has been born already as well.

Finally, this story is dedicated to the Jeffrey in my life, wherever he is now. I hereby make a public apology. You weren't a bad guy at all, and you tried so hard to be charming. I hope that you are living your life with an absolutely marvelous SO who appreciates everything – and then some – about you that I didn't value. I don't regret the choice I made, but I am sorry about any pain I caused you.

HISTORIAN by Arianna Malone

Part 1: Rejection

"Hey, pretty lady."

Dr. Temperance Brennan mentally cringed at the sound of Jeffrey Dean's voice. _Damn_, she thought. _I knew I should have stepped out to see Dr. Goodman about the Westner Cave remains. Now it's too late to hide._ Still, she smiled as she looked up at the messenger to return his greeting.

That is to say, she ordered the corners of her mouth to turn upwards. The effect was more of a grimace rather than a smile.

She hoped that he would leave once she had signed off for the package he'd brought to her. It didn't shock her, though, that he stayed by her side, jabbering at her.

_Why is he still here?_ Tempe bent her head over the parcel and began to cut through the layers of tape that bound it shut. Jeffrey was talking about his new motorcycle, but the reasons for his choice of topic were beyond the anthropologist. Her irritation with the man at her elbow was tempered by her instinct to be polite. She recognized that he posed no threat to her. Whose fault was it that she couldn't stand the man?

No one's, that's whose.

_Why, oh why, doesn't he find someone else to talk to…talk at…whatever?_

"…and I was thinkin', you should come with me sometime."

Tempe jerked her head up in surprise, meeting his eyes without thinking.

Meeting his puppy-dog sad, ever hopeful, I-am-seriously-crushing-on-this-woman-before-me eyes.

She almost physically recoiled from that look, from his expectant smile.

Then she scowledandsnapped, "I'm not interested, Jeffery. Don't ever ask me again."

Having broken into rudeness, Tempe suddenly felt no qualms about turning her back on the now-gaping man and striding fiercely away to the safety of her office.

Part 2: Conversation

"Sweetie, what is with you?"

Tempe met Angela's eyes. "What do you mean?"

Angela sighed, but wasn't about to be put off by her best friend playing dumb. "Why are you always so nasty to Jeffrey? When he left today, it looked like his dog had died."

"I don't know what that means." Tempe hedged.

"It means that there are ways of letting guys down gently. You didn't have to rip out his heart and grind it beneath your heel."

As Tempe opened her mouth to protest, Angela continued. "He's a sweet guy, maybe not the brightest bulb, but he sincerely likes you."

"I never asked him to like me! I'm. Not. Interested."

Tempe was surprised by the vehemence she heard in her voice, but Angela merely sounded amused as she answered.

"Honey, I'm not suggesting that you marry the man. What's so wrong with going out for a drink or two, maybe a couple of laughs? Tempe, face it. You need to get out more."

Tempe rolled her eyes at the endless refrain that Angela sang to her daily. "Ange, I'm seriously not interested. I'm not interested in Jeffrey." _Damn straight, I'm not interested in Jeffery. He makes my skin crawl._ "I'm not even interested in finding someone who isn't Jeffrey. I mean, what's the point?"

Now, Angela looked confused. "What do you mean, 'what's the point?'"

Tempe offered Angela a look that suggested that the answer should have been apparent. "I've realized that not only can I survive on my own, I'm actually quite happy that way. Why should I spend my time dating people I'm not interested in? I've got better things to do than to gamble on the chance that if I go on one more date, or hang out at one more club Mr. Right is going to appear at my side like…like magic!"

Angela plopped down on a convenient chair.

"Oh. My. God!" She murmured, and then, she started to laugh.

Tempe stared at her friend who had obviously gone slightly insane. "What?" She demanded. "Angela! What?"

Slowly, Angela brought her laughter under control. "You, my friend, are a romantic! I don't believe it!"

"I am not!"

Angela tried very hard not to laugh once again at Tempe's sulky, stubborn tone. She managed only to limit herself to one delighted gurgle before she expanded on her earlier statement.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan believes in Mr. Right! Anyone who's only interested in a short term, doomed-to-failure relationship need not apply. When she gets into a relationship, it's going to be one that will last forever!

"What?" Tempe was appalled. "I never said that! If anything, I implied that there is no such thing as Mr. Right. In fact," she was warming to her topic now, "the American preoccupation with 'romantic love' is the result of too many marketing campaigns selling their product with the promise that it will somehow bring people the love they "deserve". A majority of societies in the world don't include love in their considerations when two people want to get married. They look at what kind of alliance it will create between the families."

Angela shook her head. _I hate it when Tempe moves into anthropologist mode._ "So, you're saying that you want someone to arrange a marriage for you?"

Tempe glared at her friend. "I didn't say that either. I am saying that I am perfectly content to be alone. I like my life. I'm not going to go out and…sell myself simply because society is telling me that I can't possibly be fulfilled by living alone; and thatif I don'tfind someone to grow old with, I have more or less failed in life."

Angela knew that Tempe could only be pushed so far before she resorted to logical arguments that had nothing to do with reality. Slipping her arm around Tempe's shoulder, she gave her a friend a quick half-hug.

"Just promise me, Tempe, that you won't become a hermit just to prove your point."

Tempe offered a small smile in response. "I give you my word. Now, can I get back to work?"

Part 3: Machination

"Tempe! Hey, Temperance, old girl!"

Tempe smiled as she listened to Agent Iris Robers bellowing out her name. She stood and waved to the aging fed. While she waited for Iris to reach her, Tempe twisted her back one way and then the other, working the kinks out of her muscles that had been still for too long.

Iris had called Tempe the previous day with a request for assistance in recovering a body, and Brennan had been more than happy to comply. She had worked with Iris before and truly like the grey-haired agent. Iris had been one of the first women accepted into the FBI after Hoover's death in the early 70's, and she had been in the field for almost thirty years now. Iris had recently confided to Tempe that she was putting in for an administrative position in the bureau.

"Lord knows, I'm not young anymore. Pretty soon, I'll be a danger to myself and the other agents in the field. Better that I sit behind a desk and bore myself with paperwork all day long than get anyone killed."

Tempe knew that she'd miss working with Iris. Unlike many of the other agents Tempe had encountered in the field, Iris was intrigued by what the scientists couldadd to an investigation. Her insatiable curiositywas enough to endear the agent to many a scientist's heart.

"You're early," Tempe remarked when Iris finally made it to her side at the shallow grave. "I didn't think I'd see you before three this afternoon."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure that you weren't getting into any trouble." Iris grinned to show that she was only teasing the younger woman. "Actually, something has come up, and there are going to be a few changes."

"Trouble?" Tempe asked.

"Nah." Iris disagreed. "Remember how I told you that I had requested to be shackled to a desk?" Tempe nodded. "Well, it seems they had a different alternative to offer me, and I've decided to take it."

Tempe hesitantly asked, "Is it a good thing? For you, I mean?"

Iris grinned again. "Yeah, I think so. I'll be working with the new recruits at the academy. It seems that the PTB think that my years in the field have given me enough stories to tell to illustrate the lessons I need to teach. But," Iris pointed at Tempe, "what that means for you is that you'll be reporting to the agent who will be taking over my open cases."

"That's logical." Tempe admitted. "Who is it?"

"His name is Booth. I haven't met him before, but he's got a reputation for being an exceptional agent. Anyway, what I wanted to check with you about is dinner tonight. I'm meeting him," Iris glanced at her watch, "in about an hour. We're going to go over my cases, and talk about my contacts – including you. Why don't you meet us for dinner at the Italian Village at six o'clock? I figure, since you're working on this current case, his meeting you is more important that his meeting anyone else."

Part 4: Premonition

Tempe was early. That was surprising, because after she had finished with the recovery of the remains, she had rushed to get back to the Jeffersonian, and then home for a quick shower and change. Although she could handle it, going out into public with the odor of decomposition clinging to her hair and clothing was not her favorite thing to do. There was really no way to describe the scent. It wasn't pleasant, but she had never found it to be as disgusting as others claimed it was.

She sat at the bar and ordered a Sprite while she waited for Iris and Booth. She heard Iris' laugh before she saw the agent come through the archway with a waiter who was leading the way to their table. Iris caught Tempe'smovement out of the corner of her eye as the anthropologist climbed off the stool and began to weave her way through the crowd.

"There you are, old girl!" Tempe smiled once again at the odd nickname that still made no sense to her. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

Tempe shook her head. "Not at all." She turned her face towards the tall man shadowing her friend and nodded politely. Considering his inclusion in the small parade that the three of them formed, Tempe assumed that this was Agent Booth, but it wasn't until the trio reached their table that Iris made the introductions.

"Booth, this is my good friend, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Tempe, this is Special Agent Seeley Booth."

They shook hands, politely.

Tempe didn't think that he noticed the half-second hesitation she had before taking his hand.

She was also sure that neither Iris nor Booth heard the announcement that thundered through her head. How they could have missed the clarion was beyond her. Tempe believed that her thoughts were written all over her face: a scrolling marquee lighting up her forehead.

_Oh, Tempe, my girl. This one…you could make a fool of yourself over him. Better stay away…far, far away. Siberia, maybe. I hear Siberia is a nice place to live when you have something to hide from. And I've always wanted to meet some honest-to-god reindeer herders. Maybe the Evenk will be welcoming…._

_Oh boy, this is going to be a long evening!_

Part 5: Examination

Sleep was elusive for Tempe that night. She found that her mind kept cycling between the feeling of her hand in his which caused the alarms in her mind to ring merrily and the moment when she realized that she was the luckiest woman on the face of the planet. Tonight, she had dodged a bullet – and hopefully the lesson she would take away from the evening would be to never, ever judge a book by its cover.

And the cover on this book, well, it was very good looking.

Fortunately, the contents were arrogant and shallow.

He had struck the wrong note the very first time he opened his mouth. "So, Iris really thinks highly of you. I don't think that she had half as much to say about any of the other squints."

At Tempe's confused look, Iris broke in. "He means scientists. Don't you, Booth? 'Cause I know that you would never deliberately insult any of the professionals who you work with, right?"

Booth grinned at her tone. "Am I going to get a lecture when we get back to office, Mom?"

"You just might," Iris warned, but smiled in response to his cheeky, charming smirk.

"I take it that you don't think much of scientists, Agent Booth." Tempe was pretty sure that she knew the answer, but wanted to see how he'd respond.

At least he was honest with her.

"Well, Dr. Brennan," he put a subtle emphasis on her title, "I don't mean any disrespect. Solving cases would be incredibly difficult without your help. However, I would prefer to keep 'professionals' in their labs. It's safer for them that way." He glanced at Iris before he continued. "Iris and I have agreed to disagree on that one."

"I disagree because you're being stubborn." Iris said, but with very little heat. "If you keep scientists away from the crime scenes, you lose a great deal of information – even if it is only their impressions and gut reactions."

And that began a thirty-minute debate that raged between the two federal agents. Tempe observed, and tried to convince herself that she shouldn't take offense by Booth's arguments. After all, he was only expressing his opinion about something that Tempe took very personally. Of course, she told herself,her mind wasn't going to beopen to alternative ways of viewing the issue.

Nevertheless, his vehement defense of his position lost him points with the anthropologist.

Even worse for his ratings, before the meal was over, he had taken to calling her "Bones" when he wasn't calling her "Dr. Brennan" in that mocking tone.

About the only positive thought that Tempe held onto throughout that ghastly meal was that Iris seemed to be completely oblivious to the dislike that Agent Booth was inspiring in her friend. And even that comforting idea was ripped away from her. When Booth had gone to the bathroom, Iris leaned across the table and spoke in a low tone.

"Old girl, he's just trying to get a rise out of you. I know it's not easy, but the less irritation you show, the sooner he'll move on to something less obnoxious."

"Iris," Tempe hissed back, "he doesn't like scientists! How am I going to be able to help if he's not going to give me access to the information that I need?"

Iris sat up once again and offered a cheerful smile. "Tempe, I have never seen you accept "no" for an answer in your professional life. I know that you'll find a way to work things out with Booth."

_Yeah_, Tempe thought later that night as she waited for sleep to claim her. _We'll figure something out. I just need to be thankful that he helped to kick-start my stalled logical mind. Thank god for egotistical agents. Thank god...thank god._


End file.
